


Life And Death

by NotPitifulChildrenAnymore



Series: Femslash February 2021 Fics [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash Prompt, Gun Violence, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Murder, Suicide, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29162550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPitifulChildrenAnymore/pseuds/NotPitifulChildrenAnymore
Summary: Inspired by Femslash February's Day 1 prompt- redDay: 1Prompt: redShip: Chloe x BrookeJust... read the tags. It's deep i promise.
Relationships: Brooke Lohst/Chloe Valentine
Series: Femslash February 2021 Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140734
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Life And Death

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm going to be doing a series of Femslash February inspired fics- so prepare for 28 days of prompt inspired writing!
> 
> Day 1 was red- so naturally I took it as an opportunity to brush up on my *angst* skills :)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! Please feel free to yell at me in the comments- and know that I regret every part of it
> 
> Just not enough to not press post...

Red was a color Chloe knew well.

She knew it from nights spent broken on the bathroom floor, trying to patch together some semblance of who she’d been before. She knew it dripping slowly from gash after gash, opened at her own free will. She knew it from the light lipstick marks left on skin, both her own and someone else's. She knew it sloshing around in a cup, dark but still easily identifiable. She knew it from angry stings popping up from a hand connecting with a face- painful in making its connection. She knew it from nights of lost control and moments that went just a bit further than intended.

But it was never supposed to be associated with someone vital and bright- it felt wrong, like an important rule had been violated. Broken rules had consequences too, but this one felt like too harsh a consequence. It was a life sentence handed out for the simple crime of existing.

Sure she could have told herself to stay optimistic. Bloody handprints on the walls heading up and a railing streaked with red could be expected when you enter an apartment in one of the worst parts of an already shady town. Not reassuring, but it didn’t have to mean what she thought it meant. Still though- she knew that handprint well. Small and delicate, Chloe could practically feel its grip on hers- steady and calming. Familiar.

Her heart began to race as she followed its path, nearly stopping completely when she recognized where it ended.

_“I think it’s lovely”_

_“You would”_

_Catching the offended look on Brooke’s face, Chloe just sighed. She hadn’t been lying- she was fairly sure only Brooke would actually like an apartment like this. It was a part of her magic- the ability to make the best of every situation._

_“It’s very… red,” she hedged._

_It was. The walls were practically drenched in the sickly color, bright and unnatural._

_Brooke nodded slowly, not saying anything. Chloe could practically hear her gears turning, thinking of the best way to turn the apartment into a place that could feel like home._

_“It has potential”_

_Potential._

She walked towards the door, hesitantly pressing a palm against it. It fell open easily at her touch and she stepped in.

The first thing she registered was the red. It surrounded her by all sides, those walls Brooke had insisted had a certain appeal closing in. 

She flipped on the lights, her eyes noticing that the color had penetrated the rest of the apartment. It was stained into the linoleum kitchen counters and wooden floors. It was everywhere, but Chloe only cared about where she knew it shouldn’t be. 

“No-”

Brooke looked up at her from the couch, seeming surprised.

“H- hey Chlo”

Chloe felt her feet carry her over, barely aware of what she was doing until she reached Brooke.

Brooke’s golden hair was streaked with blood, her favorite yellow cardigan slowly losing its color and submitting to a much darker hue. Without thinking, Chloe went to pull it away, finding it replaced with Brooke’s hand- fitting the handprints perfectly- instead.

“Don’t-”

But Chloe was already beginning to set aside the cardigan, her hands moving to the next layer- a formerly bright white t- shirt. As it was lifted away it exposed warm skin- a bit too warm.

“Ow-”

Brooke was wincing, her cheeks flushed and her normally luminescent eyes now shockingly dark.

Chloe was tracing the outline of Brooke’s figure, pausing as her finger hovered over a near gaping hole in her stomach. Brooke’s eyes traveled with Chloe’s, though she didn’t look nearly as surprised.

“Doesn’t hurt- thought it missed…”

Chloe froze, and Brooke took advantage of the silence to try to sit up. She fell over almost immediately, into Chloe’s arms. As Chloe held her, she noticed faded scars overlapping with a few fresh ones.

Brooke took in a deep breath, and even to Chloe’s untrained ears it sounded forced and painful. She wiped a hand across her face, and at Brooke’s concerned look she vaguely realized that she had probably gotten blood all over her face.

“I love you Chlo”

Chloe nodded as the situation began to hit, her body seeming to go completely numb. Her only indication that she was feeling anything at the moment were the silent, salty tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Love you Brookie”

Brooke smiled, her eyes seeming to search Chloe’s before she closed them, her entire body suddenly so heavy in Chloe’s arms. Chloe set her down carefully, still feeling oddly numb.

She stepped away, taking a look at herself in the mirror.

Same long brunette locks, pushed to the side hastily. Same blue eyes, staring back at her with a dead, haunted look. Her makeup was smudged only slightly, and all Chloe could think of was the sticky feeling she felt all over her body. She looked at herself again, noting with an odd detachment that it was Brooke’s blood.

The one bright spot in her life. The only person who’d been able to make her feel anymore.

She found the kitchen fairly quickly, turning a knife over in her hands. 

It felt fitting that red was the only thing she could see as she died.


End file.
